


bro dont be gay bro just gimme a little kiss on the lips

by Tweekpuncher



Category: South Park
Genre: College, M/M, One-Sided Bunny, Shotgunning, it's about tweek and kenny but its not really shippy but its not not shippy, kind of a bummer, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tweekpuncher/pseuds/Tweekpuncher
Summary: Repost! Kenny and Tweek are sad and nothing happens.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	bro dont be gay bro just gimme a little kiss on the lips

It was a party in the sense that people were gathered in Clyde’s dorm and drinking. In another sense, it was six dudes and Bebe (who was dating Wendy anyway) getting day drunk and yelling over the TV. With all of them crammed into the tiny living space sandwiched between the bathroom and the bedroom, only large enough to house two twins and a center nightstand, it felt (and smelled) like an actual frat party. With Cartman’s wide ass consuming more than half the futon, there was just barely room for Clyde to squish in beside him. Bebe sprawled on Clyde’s lap, insistently placing her feet in Cartman’s lap, despite his constant attempts to shove them off.  
“You should grateful to have a girl’s feet on you, lardass,” Bebe teased, a bit more lightheartedly than she would have as a child. “I bet you haven’t been touched by a girl in years.”  
“Bitch I get laid by girls way hotter than you every day of my life.” Irritatingly, Cartman did manage to worm his way into short but frequent relationships with quality girls, none of whom were from South Park, of course.  
Bebe shoved the bottom of her foot up against Cartman’s cheek, inciting a high squeal of displeasure.  
“Buttercup, look,” Kenny hummed, holding his phone up to Butters, who lay on his belly on the floor beside him.  
“Aww, cute!” Butters’ face lit up the way only Butters’ face lit up. Kenny looked a little too long before catching himself.  
Token was making everyone uncomfortable by insisting upon standing and barely acknowledging his first beer of the gathering. He checked his phone frequently. He looked much sharper in his new jeans and two hundred dollar shoes than the others, who were largely dressed in pajamas and old camp counselor tees.  
“Dude, Nicole’s class hasn’t even ended yet. Relax.” Clyde grumbled.  
“I’m not relaxed. I mean, I am relaxed. I don’t even care whether she comes over or not.” Token and Nicole were undergoing their yearly break-ups. The rest of the South Park kids, who had grouped together more tightly than before once being cast into the veritable alternate universe that was CSU, didn’t particularly mind; despite being on-and-off since fourth grade, Nicole and Token were always at the very least friendly with one another, and were mature enough not to drag outsiders into whatever it was they were doing. It was sort of cute when tall, handsome, rich, intelligent Token was tripping and fawning over Nicole, who was certainly pretty and sweet and loveable, but hardly Miss Colorado. A lot of the girls in Token’s classes found it a bit less than cute, however.  
In the bedroom, Tweek lay on Clyde’s bed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the conversations; he felt a part of the group, despite being silently out of sight. It was unhealthy, and he knew it, but he always felt a bit naked without Craig’s hand in his. Between classes, schoolwork, readying his graduate program application, and the thirty hours a week he spent under cars down at the Jiffy Lube, Craig’s hand was increasingly unavailable. Tweek put in his own forty at the coffee shop in the library. He was the only employee who wasn’t also a student, having dropped out after a pretty severe breakdown freshman year.  
Being with Craig had nearly cured the majority of his nervous ticks. Now, separated so often, they were slowly returning. He had his first bald patch since tenth grade. He grazed his fingers over it, glad no one could see him. His cuticles were stripped down to the knuckle. The insides of his cheeks were chewed to hamburger. He disgusted himself.  
He heard Kenny stand and slap his knees. “Baby need ciggy,” he announced. Tweek couldn’t quite tear his gaze from the ceiling, but he heard Kenny’s voice inside the room, asking, “Wanna go with me?”  
Tweek gave his bald patch one more good chafe before quickly and, hopefully, subtly sweeping the rest of his hair back over it. “Yeah. I’m coming.”  
The long halls, the painted cement walls, the sizzling fluorescent lights: the dorm building made Tweek edgy. He walked close to Kenny as they trod down and out, losing some ground as Kenny took the steps three by three. They made sure to wave to the girl at the desk to make sure she didn’t think they were stranger danger when they buzzed back in.  
Outside, it was Edgar Allen Poe weather. That kind of autumn cold that felt colder than winter cold, once all the leaves died but before one could get accustomed to the uninterrupted white of the sky. They were supposed to walk a certain distance from the dorm before lighting up, but they slipped into the little alcove before a maintenance door just off the main entrance.  
Tweek pulled his last cigarette from the crushed pack in his back pocket, popping it between his lips to free up his hands to struggle with his lighter. He made a mental note to hit the corner shop by the bus stop on his way home. He flicked the wheel once, twice, three times, swore.  
“Here,” Kenny said, holding up his hands to shield the lighter from the wind that managed to slip past the wall. Tweek nodded in appreciation. The lighter sparked, and he finally managed to light his cigarette.  
Kenny fumbled in his pajama pockets, in his hoodie pocket, bent and felt at his socks. “Dude, can I bum off you? I’ll get you back.”  
“I’m out.” Tweek pulled the wasted carton out of his pocket as if Kenny wouldn’t believe him otherwise.  
“Ah, shit. Fuck. Halvesies?”  
Kenny typically hated charity. He was always pulling out his debit card before anyone else could, waving people off when they protested, even though they all knew two of his three daily meals were ramen. Tweek figured if he was asking like this, he must really need it. Having been there before, he nodded, pulling the cigarette from his lips and handing it over to his friend.  
Kenny took a greedy drag, pulling the ember close. He held the smoke like it was weed, letting it soak into his lungs, and then blew it out in a clean stream.  
“Are you wearing lip balm?” He asked, passing it back to Tweek.  
“Uh, yeah. My lips get all cracky. It’s gross.”  
Kenny licked his lips, staring off into the middle distance. “I used to eat my mom’s lip balm when I was little. Shit’s good. Tastes like strawberries.”  
“Craig bought it for me. I just buy Carmex.”  
“Craig has good taste. Maybe I should buy Butters some lip balm…,” again, he caught himself, shutting his mouth tight.  
A hard twitch racketed through Tweek’s body. Embarrassed, he held his arms more closely to himself, folding down slightly. “Sorry. It’s cold.”  
A plastic bag rattled loudly down the sidewalk.  
“Here,” Kenny said, unzipping his hoodie and spreading it open before him, inviting him in. Tweek kept his expression neutral as he eyed Kenny’s chest, then face. “It’s not gay if the balls don’t touch. C’mon.”  
Tweek didn’t laugh easy, but that made his mouth twitch into a lopsided curve. He stepped into the tent of Kenny’s arms, snuggling close so that he could pull the hoodie closed behind his back. Kenny wasn’t tall, but Tweek was short enough to make him seem it. His forehead hit about at Kenny’s collarbone.  
“You’re really warm.” Tweek noted, not in the least bit flirtatiously.  
“I can’t stand being cold. My house had like, a heating system, but we couldn’t afford to turn it on more than an hour or two a week. I always slept in my parka and shoes when I was a kid, cuz my window was just carboarded shut, y’know. I think I could go the rest of my life without taking off my jacket and be perfectly happy. I mean, unless I was given decent motivation to get naked. You know what I mean.” He lifted his eyebrows playfully.  
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”  
“Sex. I mean for to having sex.”  
“Yeah.” Tweek took another pull. He did his best to blow the smoke off to the side. “More?”  
Kenny shuffled in his sneakers. “I can’t use my arms.”  
“It’s okay.”  
“Who’s asking you? If I open my arms we’ll lose all this heat. Here, shotgun me.” He popped his mouth open like a baby bird.  
“Dude,” Tweek chided, “just take the cigarette.”  
“No. Gimme a shotgun.”  
Tweek ashed as he thought. A little resigned, he took a suck of the cigarette, holding the smoke in his cheeks. Kenny cocked his head slightly to the side. Tweek followed suit, slotting their mouths close, and letting out a strong, low exhale onto Kenny’s tongue.  
“I barely got any.” Kenny whined, knocking Tweek in the small of the back with his balled fists. “Just put your mouth on mine.”  
“Christ, man, I’m not gonna kiss you.”  
“I’m not saying kiss me. The wind took my smoke. If we do it mouth-to-mouth it won’t get blown away.”  
Tweek chewed his cheeks as he thought. He wanted a kiss. Preferably from Craig. The first time the two of them got drunk, alone in Stan’s basement, they made out for what felt like hours, grinding against one another’s thighs. Tweek came over and over into his pants. It wasn’t until years later, during another drunken conversation, that Craig told him that he’d been wracked with orgasm after orgasm, too. Craig still had the little scars on his shoulder from Tweek’s canines.  
His deep lower belly squirmed. He certainly wasn’t drunk, but he was a little buzzed. Not sober. Quivering, he sucked the cigarette down to the filter. Kenny’s mouth lowered to his level, lips closed. Tweek hated that his own lips were trembling as he tilted his chin up, pressing his mouth softly up against Kenny’s.  
It really didn’t feel like a kiss so much. Not until they opened their mouths. Tweek pushed air from down in his lungs into the hollow of Kenny’s mouth. When Kenny’s tongue swirled, tasting the smoke, it brushed Tweek’s bottom lip. Tweek was out of air and smoke. His head whirled without oxygen. For just a moment, Kenny’s hands tightened around Tweek’s waist, pulling their bellies together, pulling them into one another like he wanted their spines to meet. Kenny was so warm.  
Then, barely a second after, they broke. Tweek shuffled back in the small space inside the hoodie. Kenny coughed.  
“That worked. Thanks.” Kenny mumbled without his usual bravado.  
Tweek dropped his gaze to the small space between them. “I love Craig so much, man.”  
“Yeah, I know. You’re really lucky. It must be so great to be so in love with someone who feels the same way.”  
They shared a mutual sad silence. In some way, it was the most intimate moment they’d ever shared. The wind gave a little shriek as it slapped past.  
“Let’s go inside.” Kenny suggested, unwrapping Tweek from his embrace. Tweek was sort of surprised to find that he didn’t instantly lose the heat; he felt warmer, even as he stepped fully away from his friend. A little sadder than they were before, but not in such a bad way, the two walked back to the dorm.


End file.
